Little Promised Child
by Dove of Night
Summary: Married before her ninth birthday, and never given any sort of choice, she was left alone on an island for numerous years. Finally, her husband came for her. But, unfortunately for the cold prince, she was not interested. *AM* -Yes, it's back!-
1. Chapter 1

**AN:**

**Dove: Yes. I _Should_ be working on Silence, The Only Way, and Sorrell Private Academy. I know this. =Blush= But this idea hit me while I was washing my hair about fifteen minutes ago and I realized it was _to_ good to pass up.**

**Thanks to Ryu-chan, for the idea – I'm pretty sure she didn't know she was giving it! Thank Goodness for Roleplaying Storylines! Lol! -**

**Little Promised Child**

_Chapter One – Meeting You_

She had been betrothed at the moment of birth. A loud infant, with a shock of black hair and pale skin. Not once was she asked her opinion.

She was married by eight years of age. Two months later, war broke out.

The girl was sent to an island. A distant place, where no one lived but the servants in her castle. Only five knew of the island's existence, and her parents couldn't even visit. Not that it mattered – they were killed three weeks after her shipping.

A nasty affair, including rampaging animals, mutiny, and a few beheadings. Rumor held tales of a few hangings, as well.

She grew there, alone save for fifteen servants. Her hair grew long and silky, her eyes deepened in color and emotion. She read as often as a book fell into her hands, spurred by her obsessive thirst for knowledge. The little princess learned many things she might have been kept from had she been watched over by parents at nurses.

She learned to fight – training from the information she was given in the books. She learned how to argue with someone without making it seem obvious. The child even became skilled at sneaking about and light thievery.

She was, indeed, a strange Princess. She didn't even wish for her husband to come to her. She was perfectly happy on her little island without any interference from a _man_ and wished it to stay that way.

"Good morning, M'lady. It's time to be up and about!" Chirped the maid as she entered the room, throwing open the curtains and hurrying over to the bed. The covers were over her young mistress' head. With a sigh, she pulled them down to chide the girl for her laziness.

Only to discover no one there.

She heard giggling from behind her, and discovered the Princess perched atop a book-case, a freshly extinguished lamp at her side and a book in her hands. "M'lady, get down from there!" The maid cried, eyes wide. The girl laughed, tossing her long black hair in exuberance. But she did as asked, hopping light-footed from the wooden contraption and landing lithely.

"So, what'm I doin' today?" She asked, speaking in an accent she'd picked up from her current literary escapade. The maid frowned darkly.

"Miss, you're a Princess, speaking like a barbarian does not become you!" The girl sighed. She closed the book, 'Confessions of an Thief' and set it on her bedside table. She straightened, cracking her back loudly – causing the nurse to flinch in annoyance – and asked in a much more regal tone,

"Whatever is my schedule for today, Miss Merian?" The maid smiled at her joking and shook her head.

"Very nice, M'lady. Well, we set you up a little archery practice area, if you'd like to give it a try. Later Madame Daneesh has etiquette lessons, per usual, for you." The Princess groaned. "Yes, we all know your low opinion of your teacher, but try not to give her a hard time. Now, of with your nightgown!"

Sighing in defeat, the Princess removed her nightclothes, and washed her face in the ice-cold water that sat in the porcelain basin. Then she slipped into her training clothes and ran from the room for the archery course.

"**Sit up straight! Don't slouch, it's unbecoming and makes your stomach pooch! Keep that smirk from your face young lady! Sit still! Stop playing with your sleeve!**" Madame Daneesh shrieked in her high-pitched, tight voice. The Princess fought the urge to flinch with each word. '_She hates me._' The girl thought miserably, trying to stay still. It was getting increasingly hard – every time she did something wrong Madame would rap her arm with the ruler (That was getting painful).

She couldn't be blamed for playing with her sleeve. The girl hated dressing in her formal Kimonos, but Madame would have a panic attack if she showed up without one one.

She tried to settle more comfortably, only to take another painful whack to the shoulder. Didn't Madame know that the stupid ruler left bruises? '_Probably.__ That must be why she always uses it!_'

"**You're not listening to me!**" Madame shouted, outraged. The Princess fought the urge to grab the stupid ruler, whack Madame upside the head, and then run from the room before the old bat could regain her senses.

But she was well-learned in self-control. So instead of giving in to those homicidal urges she just stayed more still, and tried to remember, '_Only two more hours…two more…_'

"**You're SLOUCHING again!**" _WHACK_. This was going to get ugly soon.

She was limping towards her room, rubbing her arms tenderly, when she was just about bowled over by the same maid who'd awoken her.

"Oh! M'lady it's such a wonderful day!" The maid cried.

"…Why?"

"He's here! He's _Here__!_ Finally!"

"Who is here?" She asked, interest piqued.

"Your husband!" The world shook. She gulped hard, trying to keep from doing a sissy-girl thing like fainting.

The one thing she wanted more than Madame Daneesh to suddenly keel over: Her husband to never come.

But the maid would have none of that. She simply grabbed her mistress by the arm and dragged her to the front of the castle.

"Okay. Stand straight, fold your hands. When you see him, bow for a five-count and _then_ you can straighten up. Don't speak first – it's rude. And try not to say anything…_inappropriate_!" The maid pleaded. The Princess' head was spinning. She was going to finally meet him! She had seen him only once – when she was eight. But that was so long ago that she had no memories of him whatsoever.

"Here he comes!" The maid whispered and vanished inside.

Her hair was not right. The Princess panicked, brushing the loose strands from her face and then twitching over the aggravating Kimono sleeves. Did they HAVE to cover her hands by a good two feet?

She sat two boots. Silk pants…obviously this was the Prince.

Swallowing her pride she followed instructions and bowed, counting to five. And then she straightened, and her eyes traveled to his jaw. It was set, almost as if he was angry.

She felt her throat go numb and her mouth go dry.

With effort, she lifted her eyes to his.

And went stock-still.

They were cold. Mean, and cold. Frighteningly icy…they caused the Princess to consider how long she could survive trying to swim the ocean.

"Hello." She squeaked.

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**A/N:**

**Dove: Sorry this is so short. But I was going NUTS not being able to use her stupid bloody name! How 'bout some guesses as to who it is? - I'll reveal her identity in the next chapter. And yes, the other stories ARE getting attention! =Cough= Really… -**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_**

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**_Good job! I had a lot of people figure out who it was! =Snickers suddenly=_**

**_I could be evil and say 'Oh, it's Yumi with black hair 'cause I like that color and Shishio. Yup.' - Shock you all. =evil smirk=_**

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**_I'm quite honored at all of my reviews! I'm pretty sure that I only got nineteen reviews on my first chapter of Dark, and I got almost the same on the first chapter of TPC! I'm happy! =Dances around a bit= Although I did have one troubling review: 'If it's Misao I'm not reading it because there's been to many Misao fics around lately.' (Basically)_**

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**_Sorry to disappoint, but I do not take to being threatened like that to kindly. I already knew who the Princess was, so your review did not affect my choice at all. But that was incredibly angering. I hate to be rude, but I'm pretty sure I could exist without your reviews. I have plenty of other sweet people who won't threaten me (unless I don't update in a good-for-them time frame…=coughs=) and I'm more than happy with them. _**

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**_Just something I needed off of my chest._**

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**_And now to the story!_**

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**_The Promised Child_**

**Chapter Two – Come Away With Me**

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"Good day." He replied, cold eyes meeting hers with enough force to catch her breath in her throat. "You are Lady Misao, correct?" He sounded condescending. Misao took a calming gulp of air, and forced her back to straighten like a pole had been shoved up her backside.

"Yes." She responded, affecting the accent that Madame always stressed in her lessons, a soft drawl with a hint of arrogance. "I am, of course. You are Lord Shinomori?" He nodded stiffly. Misao had to give the guy credit – he appeared a natural at the _'I couldn't have a straighter back if I was pressed to a wall'_ look. A very trained Prince, indeed.

An awkward moment stretched into an awkward pause, and quickly mutated into an awkward silence. This was bad.

"Uh…" Misao attempted, "Care to come inside?" Aoshi eyed her with a bored air.

"I suppose." He intoned coolly. Misao turned and stalked in, muttering '_I suppose_' to herself irritably. He was already a jerk. And she was _married_ to him! Argh! Stupid evil parents and their annoying 'promising' of her! She was _trapped_ with him. Bad.

"Where are we going?" The voice was amused now. So he found her irritation _funny_?! Misao fought the sudden urge to turn and say 'To the bedroom, of course. Are you not my husband – a guy?'. Fortunately, when she thought of trying to actually get those words out she reconsidered.

So instead Misao politely tossed over her shoulder, "To the dining room. We've lunch coming up very soon." _I hope_. She added to herself and smirked.

Aoshi made no more attempt to speak, and Misao returned the favor. Both continued to stroll along in a very un-companionable silence until they reached the dining room.

Lunch consisted of greens, meat, and a beverage. Misao really didn't care about the names of everything, she just ate what they gave her, thanked them, and moved on to bigger and more amusing things. Aoshi seemed a bit put-off by the food, apparently more used to richer dishes with fancy names. Misao didn't miss a chance to give him a dark look.

As soon as she'd shoved down her last bite, she muttered, "Thanks!" To the maid who'd served them, who would pass the message on to the cook. And then Misao was on her feet, out the door, and in her archery practice field again. She liked that much better than being with that icy Prince.

She nocked the arrow, taking careful aim. She drew a breath, let it out, and released the string. The arrow whistled through the air briefly before slamming into the target with a muffled thud. Misao grinned – she was getting better! This one was only a _little_ bit off of the target.

"Admirable." Came Aoshi's voice, startling her. '_Didn't I ditch you?_' She mused a bit more irritably than she liked. Misao preferred everything the way it was, she didn't like change. And now Aoshi just _showed_ up and expected everything to be all…royal! Already the Princess was biased against the Prince.

"I don't need your input." Misao muttered.

"You should be more polite," Aoshi chided, "You will, after all, need to be liked by society." Misao felt the color leave her face. That was true, she was going to have to leave her happy existence on her island and return to the real world, after almost ten years.

"People don't need to like me." She muttered, putting her bow back into its place, yanking the arrow from the target and returning it to it's quiver.

"Yes they do." Aoshi replied, dead-pan. He noted her reluctance, and really didn't much care. He was married to her, her opinion REALLY didn't matter, and it was time for her to be reintroduced to reality. "We leave tomorrow." He tacked on, before striding arrogantly from the room.

Misao gulped. She didn't _want_ to leave. "We leave tomorrow," She mimicked irritably, "'cause I'm the king of the world – or the Prince if that's what you wanna call it and everything I say goes and only my opinion matters." She stormed to her room, snagged her book, and left the castle without glancing back. "I'm not going."

She ran through the forest, dodging bushes and other sharp objects that wanted to cut her and snag on her Kimono. Which, as an afterthought, she really should have changed out of before her escape…but Misao was never one for the fore-thought.

She found herself a comfortable niche underneath a dead tree, in an old fox-den she'd enlarged when she'd run away once before. No one had found her, so it was her sanctuary. She crawled in, and pulled the blanket she kept down there out to cover the moist dirt. And then she flopped on her stomach and started to read. Misao read well into the afternoon, finishing the book just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

She sat and listened to the night for a long time, before she finally fell asleep.

Morning came quite suddenly. Misao awoke shortly after sunrise, but stayed where she was, slowly working the cramps from her tight muscles. She must have slept like a log, rigid and unmoving.  '_That jerk…I'll just ruin his plan to leave today. I'm on an island, they'll find me eventually._' She cracked her neck, those thoughts dancing through her head joyously.

A sigh from outside the hole. "Are you planning on coming out soon, Princess?" Misao startled, hitting her head atop the little cave.

"Ow!" She added a few fluent words she'd learned from books and the cook, and hissed.

"Very improper." Aoshi berated. "Come." Misao growled, but did as ordered, crawling out and rubbing the dirt from her cheek. This was ridiculous!

"How'd you know I was in there?!"

"Are you kidding me? I watched you run the whole way. You're my wife, do you really think I'd let you put yourself in danger?" Misao groaned. He was over-protective, too. This was going to be boring.

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**_A/N:_**

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**_Dove: And there we have chapter two. I know they aren't LONG chapters, but I'm hoping to update often enough that the shortness won't bother anyone. I'm still trying to get into the swing of things._**

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**_I'm unfortunately seeing Aoshi as out of character and Misao as aggravatingly bratty. I need to do something about that…we'll see._**

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**_Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, Review if you want more! - Thanks!_**

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**__**_Doverai_**__**


	3. Chapter 3

**_I am horrified at myself. I cannot believe that it has taken me this long to update – that is simply ridiculous. I am so terribly sorry, and hope I have no lost all of my interested readers._**

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**Little Promised Child**

**Chapter Three: The Sea**

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"I don't want to go!" Misao cried, figuring that maybe he would get it through his thick skull on her thirteenth repetition.

"Yes, Misao," Aoshi replied in a very condescending tone, "I hear you. But the war is over, and you are to return to where you and I shall live and eventually rule. It's not a difficult concept, is it?"

"I am not going! Is _that_ a difficult concept?" Misao glared, stepping back and getting ready to run.

He grabbed her arm, his grasp incredibly powerful. Misao had only known a few men in her life, as far as she could remember. None of them had ever made physical contact with her, and she was startled by his strength. Aoshi wrenched her around, forcing her close to him his face just inches from her own. "You are going. You will get on that ship, and you will cease this incessantly annoying _whining_ this instant."

Misao felt the colour draining from her cheeks. She didn't like to be frightened, she tended to pride herself on being blindly brave no matter what the situation. But now, staring into Aoshi's icy eyes and at the receiving end of quite a lot of anger, Misao felt herself cringe. She actually _flinched_.

Trying to recover herself, voice still shaking, she managed, "W-well fine," Misao tried to tone her voice as bored and arrogant as she could manage, trying to make the two words read, _Only because you're being such an arrogant brute that I shall humour you for now lest you burst into tears like a big baby._

Obviously he didn't read that, as Aoshi simply nodded and let her go, turning her toward the ship with a hand in the small of her back, "Then come along."

Misao bit her lower lip hard, and let him lead her up into the ship. It was a nice ship – very clean and well-organized. The men aboard were fully dressed and didn't leer, like the men she'd read about in her books. _Of course,_ she amended, _This isn't a pirate ship, Misao._

In fact, a few of the men even smiled at her politely and waved. She decided that they looked nice and smiled right back with a wave. Aoshi caught her hand as she started to lower it, "Don't wave," He muttered reproachfully, "It's beneath your station."

Misao was beginning to wonder exactly how long it was going to take her to smack him really hard upside the head. _Beneath my station?_ Just to spite him, glaring right at him the whole time, she raised the hand he didn't have captured in his own and waved once more.

To her delight, Misao saw a muscle in his jaw leap with the effort it took him not to yell at her. But he _didn't_ shout. She was impressed, yet again – she hadn't been shouting at him, either.

Their battle of patience was brought abruptly to an end when a tall man with brown hair, so spiked it looked like he had just cut it with a weed-whacker, gelled it, and tied it with a red ribbon for effect, made his way over with a roguish grin. "Good morning, My Lady." He greeted.

Misao had to admit that, had she not been in Aoshi's presence, his voice might have made her blush. Nevertheless, Aoshi was there and being impressed by a voice was the last thing on her mind. "Hi." She muttered abruptly.

"I am Sanosuke Sagara-Shinomori."

"That's a mouthful." Misao replied, eying him, "Shinomori?"

"Yes, Aoshi here is my brother. By marriage, not blood – could you imagine having to look like _him?_ I'm much more handsome."

Misao thought she might have seen Aoshi's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly. It was a battle to get a reaction out of him, and Misao was impressed by Sanosuke's ability. "You look like a rooster." She commented. The most random thing she could have _ever_ said. It even took _her_ aback.

"Yeah? And you look like a weasel. Got a name to go with that?" Sanosuke replied without even missing a bit.

Liking him more and more, Misao replied, "Misao Makimachi…Shinomori." It hit her right then that she was married to the block of ice standing next to her, that mister stick-up-butt was her _husband_. Eep.

Well, of course, it wasn't the _first_ time this had occurred to her...but it was definitely the most shocking. She didn't like this idea. Misao wanted to go back and change things. Aoshi scared her.

"Yes," Aoshi interrupted her rambling tangentry of thought sharply enough that Misao started a bit. "Well." Her jerking had apparently interrupted his growling. He glanced at her for a moment before letting her hand go, "If you would lead her to the cabin, Sanosuke, I would appreciate speaking with the captain."

With that, he bowed his head to Misao and marched away. Aoshi didn't walk – he _marched_. Back straight, knees lifting, the whole kit and caboodle. It was most frustrating.

Now that she thought about it…what _was_ a 'caboodle'?

Sanosuke offered his arm, "Well then, Lady Misao, let us take you to the cabin."

_The_ cabin, hmmm? They were being _awfully_ specific in their phrasing.

"Is there a chance," Misao inquired as she accepted his arm, "That Lord Aoshi is to be sharing this cabin?"

Sanosuke glanced down at her for a moment before a grin broke his serious look, "Yep," He replied lightly, "The Prince shall be sharing the cabin with you. Is this a problem? After all; you _are_ married."

If the fact that she was married to Aoshi came up _one more time_, Misao was going to break something.

Sulkily, Misao snapped, "Fine."

Sanosuke smirked down at her but did not comment, leading her below the deck and down a pair of halls. At the end of the second, he bowed as much as the corridor would allow and opened the door, "Your accommodations, my lady."

Misao glared at him, "Not funny." And without ceremony she stalked in and slammed the door in his face. She was pretty sure she heard it thunk a bit more than it should have, and an extra curse. This made her feel a bit better.

Looking around the room, Misao took in a bed that was larger than those she had imagined while reading her books. It was covered in what looked to be very expensive sheets and blankets. There was a chest of drawers on one side of the room, a mirror above them. The mirror showed that her hair was coming out of the braid, her face was covered in dirt, and her clothes were quite the mess.

Misao groaned. Great. She came onboard with someone looking as cool and calm and collected as Aoshi, looking like _that_. Some princess she was.

Sighing, she removed the ribbon from her hair. It untwined from the braid like something possessed, whipping out until it was a mass of wavy hair that brushed the floor. Moving to the drawers, she peeked within. Bingo! Removing the brush from the drawer, Misao tossed it on the bed and hesitated at the washbasin to clean the dirt from her face, neck, and hands.

Sitting on the bed, facing the small window beside it, Misao began to work the brush through her hair. It was incredibly hard…she'd never had to do it herself before. Her hair was much longer than she'd _ever_ imagined.

Groaning, Misao shifted, now just yanking at her hair which did nothing but tangle it more.

Cold fingers gently caught her wrist and removed the brush. "Allow me." Aoshi murmured from behind her. Misao felt her heart skip several beats, startled nearly out of her skin.

That was the _last_ time she sat with her back facing a door. Ever.

"Alright." Was all she replied, feeling him gather all of her hair and spread it behind her, before running the brush through it. He was good at this brushing thing, and Misao felt herself relaxing. Perhaps she could put up with him if he promised to brush her hair more often.

"You have _very_ long hair." Aoshi observed, sounding startled.

_Thank you, Captain Obvious._ "Yes, I do." Misao agreed, "I've never cut it. The braid is my favourite way of taming it – I'd probably hack it all off if I had to wear it loose."

"It is very nice, however. Perhaps you'd wear it loose every so often?"

Misao wondered if she was actually _blushing_. "I-I suppose." She agreed, promising herself that she wasn't going to braid it for the rest of the day.

Aoshi placed the brush beside her, "Your things are in the trunk beside the drawers." And with that, he was gone.

Well, so much for the great bonding moment.

Misao got up, feeling her hair tumble down her back in a silky wave. For all of its being a pain in the neck, she had to admit that her hair was superb after it had been brushed.

Making her way to the trunk, Misao peeked within. Oh! Oh! A _normal_ kimono was on the very top!

With a squeal she removed it, closing the trunk and dancing about with the gown. She'd been so afraid they'd let the Madame choose all of her clothing, and that she would end up with a hundred formal kimonos.

Eying the kimono, she noted that it was an ice-blue colour with short enough sleeves that she'd actually be able to use her hands.

Misao grinned and with no preamble stripped out of the ruined kimono she wore, plopping it – neatly folded, of course! – atop the trunk. Sliding the other on, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

It was made of something silky, and it made her just generally feel better. Who said clothes didn't solve anything? Probably the same idiot who said 'The customer is always right'.

Warm and clean, Misao made her way to the door. She opened it, and barely muffled a startled yelp when she saw Sanosuke standing there, hand poised to knock.

"Ah. M'Lady." He stammered for a moment, obviously thrown off by the fact that the girl's fist had nearly hit his nose before she'd recognized him and pulled back, "…Um. Oh! Aoshi. Aoshi wanted me to take you on a tour. He said something like 'If I try to confine her, the girl will probably jump off the side of the ship'." Sanosuke gave his best dashing grin.

Misao stared at him for a moment, before a slow grin lit across her face, "I bet he did. And he's right. I would have hopped _right_ off the side." She laughed.

"I would have _really_ loved to have seen you swimming back to shore and seen the look on Aoshi's face. But we've been out for about fifteen minutes now…you probably wouldn't make it back."

"Fifteen minutes? Really? Why am I not sea-sick?" Misao wondered, confused. She hadn't even really noticed the ship moving much.

"You will be when we hit open sea. Right now we're still close to port – the waves aren't rattling us around as much."

"Oh. Well, that's comforting." Misao sighed.

Sanosuke chuckled and offered his arm once more. Upon taking it, Misao was led through the hallways and back on deck.

* * *

Two hours later, Misao knew the boat from bow to stern to starboard to port to plank to mainsail. She was tired.

"Okay. I want to go to bed." She muttered, letting Sanosuke's arm go for the umpteenth time. He didn't seem willing to let her walk around without a physical escort. Misao was tired of holding his arm.

Aoshi seemed to materialize in front of them, "Ah, but it is lunch time." He chided.

"Lunch?" Eating. Eating in front of Aoshi. This meant she had to eat like…a civilized young lady. Oh, blast. Misao decided to plead the fifth, "I'm sorry to disappoint…but I am beginning to feel a bit nauseas. And…um…seasick. So perhaps…another time." With that said she retreated back to the room and lay upon the bed after locking the door, fiddling with some of her hair.

Misao had to admit to being _slightly_ pleased when she saw Aoshi's eyes light up a bit at her loose hair. She also, now, had to admit to being irritated by how much static had come from the salt-spray.

A knock came from the door, "Misao. Come eat." Aoshi demanded.

"I'm not hungry!"

"It wasn't a request!"

"I _am not eating!_" Misao snarled.

Aoshi's fist slammed into the door with a resounding sound, "Open the damn door!"

Misao glared. Oh. No. He did not. Just.

She jumped to her feet, running to push her trunk in front of the door. "Go away!"

"I will break this door down!"

"No you won't! Leave me alone!" Misao shouted.

"You're being unreasonable!" She heard him slam against the door – a heavy slam, like he'd run his shoulder into it.

"_You're_ ramming into the door and screaming at me for not eating, and _I'm_ unreasonable?" She shouted back.

"YES!" Aoshi hollered, hitting the door again.

Misao looked about frantically. A rug! Who put rugs in a room without a purpose? Heading over, she brushed it aside. Ah-ha!

A trapdoor.

She opened it, grunting at the weight, and position the rug to fall back into place as she closed the door.

It came down with a muffled thud, covered by Aoshi's slamming into the door again, and Misao scrambled down the short ladder to the damp ground.

Peering around, she realized two things. One – it was _really_ dark. Two – there was nowhere else to go.

Oh.

And one more thing.

She wasn't alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh. Hi there. Um. –wave-**

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Little Promised Child

Chapter Four

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When her feet hit the dank planks of the hidden compartment, Misao spun on her heel and froze face-to-face with a wide-eyed young girl. They stayed very still, both trapped in their strange stalemate for a long tremulous moment. Finally the young princess broke the silence, "Hi."

The girl looked ready to start sobbing any moment. "H-hi." She managed breathlessly, shivering. Misao reached back to loop her hair into a half-hearted knot to keep it out of her face, slowly approaching the wide-eyed young girl. "Oh!" The girl tried to scramble back further, showing Misao just how large this little under-ship hiding area was.

"Hey, hey, shush! Don't run. I won't hurt you. Who are you, anyway? What are you doing down here?"

"Hiding." Came the tiny response.

"Oh. Well, why are you hiding?" Misao approached more and watched the girl flee a step to match each of hers. "Stop running from me already. You're safe. What's your name? I'm Misao."

"L-l-_lady_ Misao…?" The small voice stammered, the pitch somehow getting impossibly higher.

"Yes. I guess. Misao is fine, though, really. No one ever really went out of their way to tack on the _Lady_ title before anyway. What's your name?"

"Tsubame." The girl managed timidly, still visibly shaking.

"And why are you down here, Tsubame? How did you even get down here?"

"I…I was running." The girl mumbled nervously.

"Running? What from? Oh stop shaking, kid, come here." She lunged and caught Tsubame's shirt, tugging her close so she could wrap an arm around her, "It's freezing down here, you should be wearing more than that skimpy thing. Now; why are you hiding?"

In a breathless voice, which frequently hitched as she burst into frightened tears, Tsubame admitted that she was a slave aboard the ship, and she'd broken the captain's favourite decanter and he was absolutely going to flay her for it.

"So you hid down here? Geesh." Misao muttered, "How old are you?"

"Eight."

"You're eight and he's gonna--? Oh no he isn't." Misao tossed her head, "Nu-uh. I won't let him."

"You _won't_?" Tsubame stared up at him, her big brown eyes the roundest eyes Misao had ever seen.

She patted her atop the head, her own blue eyes closing in a grin. "Of course I won't. I'm the _princess_ after all."

Light spilled into the dark hiding place as Aoshi hoisted the trap door, "Misao, I'm trying _very_ hard to be patient with you but you are being completely ridiculous. Now come out of there before I'm forced to resort to harsh language and force."

"Sure thing." Misao chirped and dragged Tsubame with her, "Oh, I made a new friend."

Aoshi froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he considered the girl and the younger girl, "…uh…"

HA. Pleased that she'd left him speechless for once, Misao frowned at him and helped Tsubame onto the ladder, "Aren't you going to help the lady?"

"Oh—" Aoshi reached down and took Tsubame's hand, hoisting her up with an easy arm, setting her beside him and then reaching for Misao who let him help her before tugging away from him and resting her hands on the brunette child's shoulders.

In the light was when she got her first look at Tsubame. The girl's eyes were impossibly large in her small child-round face. She was stick-thin, made more prominent by her clothing; an over-sized men's shirt belted around her thin waist. Her hair was brown, Misao thought, although it was rather filthy and matted. It hung to around chin-length; flattering her young face although she looked like she'd start crying at any moment, her lower lip poked out and trembling.

"Don't cry." Misao pleaded, feeling a little helpless now that she had this kid out in the light. She wasn't used to pulling rank on people; how was she supposed to do this?

"Who are you?" Aoshi's voice was suddenly gentle. "What's your name, kid?"

"Tsubame." She whispered, lower lip trembling violently as Aoshi knelt and fussed with the collar on her "dress."

"Tsubame. That's a pretty name. How old are you, Tsubame?"

"She's eight."

"Eight. And why were you down there?" Misao recounted the brief tale for him. Aoshi's brows rose, "Glass is easily replaced. No female should be a slave." He seemed annoyed by this, "How did you end up on here, Tsubame?"

Before the child could answer, there was a scream. The whole ship jerked hard to the side and Misao went feet-over-teakettle into a wall. She squeaked as the ship jerked hard again, a terrible sound following the jerk, and moments later the scent of smoke.

"Pirates." Aoshi breathed, leaping to his feet and snatching something that looked like a sword scabbard – but she'd never seen one so large before? – and vanishing from the room. It was a good thing, because he missed Tsubame's next words.

"Momma, and papa…"

"What about them?" Misao mumbled as she struggled to her feet, fighting her way out of a curtain of hair and immediately reaching for a ribbon to tie it at least back in a ponytail. She was braiding it again as soon as they were – _pirates_?!

"They're here!" Tsubame ran from the room, Misao hot on her heels, for two different reasons. As they broke to the deck of the ship they were hit by a thick cloud of smoke. Misao gagged, catching Tsubame's hand with the intention of yanking her back and being dragged forward instead, right into the thick of the battle. She looked up, seeing the black flag of a pirate ship, eyes wide as she looked around again, entranced for a moment as one of her books came to life right in front of her. Then she felt something grab her around the waist and yank her away from Tsubame. She squealed as she was practically tucked under one of her attacker's arms, and for a moment they flew… and then they slammed down on the deck of the ship that wasn't on fire.

"Be careful with her!" Came a very female command. Misao stumbled as she was put down, suddenly feeling rather nauseated. What was going on? She groaned and pressed her hands to her face before trying to whirl and bolt, figuring she could pop into the water and climb back into the ship. She'd read about it.

"Please don't be doing that, princess, I don't want to hurt you." The woman's voice came again, "Andre, put her in the brig."

"Hey—" The blonde-haired man who had snatched her to begin with took her arm almost in a gentlemanly way.

"Yes, Shura." With that he hauled Misao with him despite her hissing, spitting, kicking, scratching, and cursing. There was a moment of silence as everyone processed the fact that a young princess had just said several words a princess shouldn't _know_, and then Shura's gaze shifted and she gazed over at the ship they were attacking.

One man seemed to be putting up a hell of a fight with twin blades, and with him a man just as tall as him seemed to be enjoying himself as he smashed his fist into the faces of those who weren't defending well enough.

"_Kenshin_." Shura shouted. "The rest of the royal family, if you don't mind getting off your ass."

Kenshin snorted from where he sat on the deck, peeling potatoes, "Fine, fine, Miss Shura." He stood and lithely hopped from their deck to the deck of the other ship – literally just sort of jumped it. He approached the man with the blades first.

Shura watched silently, toying with a strand of her greenish-black hair, "Hurry up… the damn ship is gonna sink before you—" She smirked as Kenshin cracked the flat of his blade across the temple of the prince, before attacking the other prince and dropping him with a sound strike from the butt of his blade to his stomach. A little less finesse than she usually saw from Kenshin, but the ship was beginning to teeter so he saw the need to play dirty.

He hopped back, leaving the other crew members to bring Aoshi and Sanosuke, and returned to his potatoes. "What are we kidnapping them for, exactly?"

"Ransom."

"But if we kidnap _all_ of them, how are we going to get the message to the royal family that they need to pay us a ransom?"

"… a good thought, Kenshin."

And that was how Sanosuke woke up floating in a lifeboat, alone, in the middle of the ocean with a map, a sextant, and a letter for the King and Queen.


	5. Chapter 5

**-gasp- TWO updates in a week? And the longest chapter thus far, at that? No way! Lol. I'm just trying to make up for the time it's taken me... and this story still seems so popular! Besides, I have to write more to start ... feeling... _into_ the story. I've gotten a lot of compliments on my characters, haha. Thank you.**

**Respectfully,**

**DoN**

* * *

Little Promised Child

Chapter Five

* * *

Misao's head hurt. This was just one in a list of complaints that included "I'm a prisoner" but it was her foremost concern. She'd pitched a fit the entire way to the brig, and Andre had finally had enough of it, so when they'd gotten there her captor had thrown her head-first into the jail cell. The unfortunate side-effect had been her windmilling around, squeaking, and then slamming her forehead into the wall.

When she'd come around a few minutes later, Aoshi had been in the cell beside hers, and he hadn't looked so great. Strong dislike didn't mean Misao wanted him to be injured, so she knelt silently, eyes on him, for several long minutes.

"Ungh." Came a low groan and Misao stiffened, one hand still pressed to her forehead.

"Aoshi? Are you okay?"

"What ..." He jerked upright, eyes narrowing as his brow furrowed and he gazed around, "Somehow I have a feeling this is _your_ fault."

"_My_ fault?" Misao demanded, her shouting hurting her own head, "How is this _my_ fault?!"

"I don't know yet, but I'm sure it is." Aoshi muttered, glaring at her. Misao gave a furious growl and whirled, putting her back to him and crossing her arms with a snappish, "To think I was _worried_ about you. Arrogant jerk."

"Loudmouthed brat." Aoshi responded without the slightest hesitation.

Misao continued to grumble to herself, absolutely furious at Aoshi's treatment of her. He was the one who had just strong-armed his way into _her_ life, why did _he_ get to be such a jerk about it?! Oh, seriously. This was ridiculous. Tears burned her eyes just a little as she languished in her self-pity, disgusted by her whole situation. She had never asked to be married... and since she _had_ to be, why didn't she get to be married to someone who loved her? Or even _liked_ her? "So unfair." she muttered.

"I'm not any happier about it than you are. These bars are reinforced, interesting..." Misao peeked over her shoulder, watching Aoshi pace around his cage, running his hands over the bars. Clearly seeking a weakness. For a brief moment she found herself imagining him as a caged animal; dangerous, guarded... and then she jerked her head back forward as his gaze slid toward hers, cheeks burning. _Okay,_ she conceded, _at least he's attractive_. Well he was.

"Are you hungry?" Came a voice from the side. Misao looked up, finding herself face to face with a girl who looked to be a little older than she and was crouching to peer into the cage. "Hi there. Hungry?"

"No..." Misao responded slowly, gazing at the girl, "Who are you? Where are we?"

The girl smiled and tilted her head, "I'm Kaoru ... you're onboard the ship of the Kairyu pirates."

"Kairyu pirates?" Aoshi inquired from his cell, "What do you want with us?"

"Money, of course. Ransom." Kaoru responded brightly, "Of course that doesn't mean you have to be uncomfortable. Are you sure you aren't hungry? Does your head hurt? You have a nasty bruise, miss."

"I do?" Misao's hands flew to her forehead and she flinched, "Oh!"

"Where did that come from?" Aoshi demanded, glaring through the bars at Misao as she tenderly probed her bruised forehead.

"I got tossed in and didn't get my hands in front of my face." Misao grumbled.

"Great." Aoshi retorted, "Well while my _lady_ is being stubborn I will accept your offer of food."

"Me too!" Misao responded instantly, crossing her arms.

Kaoru giggled, "I'll tell Kenshin, back soon."

And with that the unhappy couple were left alone again. Misao was feeling restless and finally stood, pacing back and forth in her small cell. "Okay so we're prisoners for ransom..."

"Thank you for the recap." Aoshi muttered as he stopped his pacing and sat, leaning against the wall and rolling his eyes. "I suppose we'll wait until they pay."

"...that's it?" Misao responded slowly, baffled, "Just. Wait until they pay?"

"Why not?" Aoshi chuckled, "I'm sure they can't ask for a sum we can't cover, and Kaoru has already made it clear that our stay is to be comfortable. I'm certainly willing to let this play out."

"Let this play out?" Misao squeaked, astonished by how...how... _zen_ he was about all of this. "That's it? You're just going to let them keep us prisoner?" She whirled and stormed to the bars that separated them, momentarily glad they hadn't been placed together. It was harder to strangle him through the bars.

"I can't very well do anything unarmed and trapped in a steel cage, now _can_ I, Misao?" Aoshi muttered, rolling his eyes, "No reason to make trouble when I don't need to." Aoshi closed his eyes and seemed to have forgotten his young wife, who stood staring at him with an expression between confusion and annoyance.

Misao huffed, about to make a harsh comment, but she heard a male voice, "Oh! I'm glad you came around so quickly, Prince Shinomori. I trust you're well also, Princess?" They both looked up at the voice; a very calm and serene male tone that Misao thought belied someone with a great inner peace. "I'm Kenshin Himura; I've brought your meals. Kaoru said you were feeling a little hungry." He wasn't an imposing man, just a little taller than Misao herself with blood red hair and shining violet eyes.

"You don't look like a pirate." Misao had a little bit of a habit of simply sharing whatever thought happened to be on her mind, "You look like a girl."

The burst of laughter from the redhead in front of her was surprising; the black-haired princess had almost expected him to get angry. Might even have been trying to test his temper. "You're a blunt one, aren't you? I've been told I have a ... feminine... appearance. However, my wife might not appreciate your suggestion that she's married to another woman." Still laughing at some sort of secret joke, Kenshin slid a plate under a small gap in Misao's cell, and did the same for Aoshi. "Please enjoy your meal; I'll be back to gather your plates later." With a dazzling smile, Kenshin was gone.

Once more it was just Misao and Aoshi. The silence was agonizingly thick. Misao lifted her plate and found a dry patch of floor to sit on, back to her jailmate, then she laid into the meal with great enthusiasm. She hadn't eaten in hours, and she was starved, and the food was amazing. Potatoes... rice balls... some sort of meat...

She heard Aoshi lift his own plate, and they ate their first meal, together, in twin cells in a jail below the deck of a pirate ship, rocking gently in the waves of the ocean. Misao thought it was somewhat... fitting, really. Considering the uncommon relationship they'd had thus far, eating their first meal as a couple as the prisoner of pirates was somehow just right for them.

"Is... is it pretty on the mainland?" Misao inquired suddenly, her voice soft. Trying to offer some sort of olive branch.

"I don't know." Aoshi responded blankly, "I don't consider things in term of _pretty_." He sounded almost annoyed by the words. "I suppose it is pleasing to the eye."

"Good." Misao tried to stifle her sarcasm, frustrated by his coldness. Why couldn't he have just said yes or no and not made it into some sort of cold insult? "I'm glad the lands are pretty. I... don't remember them." She admitted quietly.

"Oh." Aoshi mumbled.

"Oh?" Misao inquired, growing irritated, "I got sent to that island at _eight_ and you got to stay and all you have to say is 'oh'?"

"Yes."

"Oooooh." She groaned, aggrivated, and suddenly twisted to gaze over her shoulder. His back was to her, as well. "Your parents. Your parents are the King and Queen?"

"Yes."

If he didn't start using more than one word to answer her... ugh. "Are they...nice?"

"They are fair and strong rulers." Came the evasive response. Did Aoshi not think about things in a normal way, ever? He turned his head to watch her over his shoulder "They are well-liked, and my father led the armies well during the war."

Misao visibly cringed as he mentioned the war, her mind's eye snapping back to the day – three weeks after being sent to the island – that a pale and horrified messenger came to tell her that her parents had been killed three days before in a sneak attack on their castle. Aoshi's parents had been quick to absorb the Makimachi lands, seeing as their son was married to the only daughter of the family, and the combined army had wholeheartedly lunged into the war.

That was how, eight years later, the lands had returned to peace and the princess could come home. She still harboured a bit of jealousy that Aoshi had gotten to stay, and grow up at home, while she'd been sent away and lost her parents. That actually led her to wonder _why_ she'd been sent away and Aoshi hadn't. Of course, who was she going to ask?

"You must miss your home." Came Aoshi's voice, breaking Misao's nostalgia. "Am I correct?"

"I did." Misao muttered, "But I can't remember it anymore. I miss the island more than I miss my original home."

"I see." Aoshi considered her for another long moment.

"All finished?" Kenshin's voice broke into the moment, "I'd appreciate it if you'd push the plates back through, that I would." He was smiling at them, still wonderfully calm. "Miss Shura, our captain, says it's about a day and a half until we reach our island. And then we'll move you two somewhere much more appropriate." He picked up their plates, "Good night." After a moment's hesitation he glanced at Aoshi, eyes serious, "You have an incredible skill with a blade; I'd like to fight you in a fair battle sometime."

With another smile for Misao, Kenshin vanished back up the stairs, closing the heavy door behind him with a soft grunt and once more leaving them down below, alone. Misao furrowed her brow and shifted, trying to decide what to do now. Sleep? Talk to Aoshi more?

Aoshi made the decision for her. He stood suddenly, and Misao jumped, tilting her head back to gaze at the Prince as he stared down at her. Their eyes met for a long silent moment. Both eyes were blue; but Aoshi's were cold, piercing, an iced blue that Misao had never seen before... whereas her own were a more muted green-blue. Strange, how so many different shades of one colour could exist.

"Aoshi...?"

He broke his silence as he slid his omnipresent white coat from his shoulders, "You look cold," he held the coat through the bars.

For a long moment Misao stood silently, startled by the sudden display of chivalry. She reached out and took the coat, "We-well. Thank you."

"Hm." Aoshi turned away once more, strolling back to where he'd been sitting, closing his eyes once more and not speaking again.

Misao gazed at him for several long moments before finally wrapping the coat around herself, practically drowning in the fabric that had been made for someone so much larger than she, curling up on her dry match of earth and dozing off with a sigh. She must have been tired, to be able to go right to sleep on such an uncomfortable, cold, floor.

She told herself very, very firmly that it had nothing to do with the scent of Aoshi that remained on the coat. It had nothing to do with that, she was just... really, really tired. That's all.

Shut up.

* * *

"How can this have happened?" The man who spoke was furious, his voice terse and trembling as he paced back and forth. He clutched the letter Sanosuke had delivered, distressed by the contents of the short note.

"They ambushed us, sir." Sanosuke mumbled to his father-in-law, and some guy with red hair... appeared out of _nowhere_ and beat down both Aoshi and I. It was insane, I've never seen someone move so fast before."

"Pirates." Came the growl of the King, "How did they _know_? They could never have known that Aoshi was going for Misao!"

"I'm not sure. I didn't stop to ask them." Sano tried not to get sarcastic.

The King cracked a bit of a smile at that and sighed, "Well..." He took up a pen and paper, and after a bit of writing handed it to Sanosuke, "Take it to the treasury."

"You're just going to give them the gold?" Came the surprised response.

"I'm going to ready the gold, in case my recovery squad does not succeed." Came the quiet response, "Go now, Sanosuke."

"Yes sir." Sanosuke hurried from the room, leaving the King to his thoughts.

The man stood silently for a long moment, and then he slid to sit in the chair he'd been considering and closed his eyes, "Find them. Bring my son and daughter-in-law home to me immediately."

"Yes, my lord." The man in the shadows, the man with a porcelain mask that made him look like a demon, bowed to the King and melting into the darkness without another word. The Oniwaban group would bring back the imprisoned Prince and Princess; if they didn't... then the King would pay.

He loved his son, and would go to any length to recover him. The Kairyu pirates were not a group he hadn't heard of before; and when they demanded a ransom they returned the prisoners once it was paid. He had no doubt he'd recover his son either way. And when Aoshi returned he would be getting a tongue-lashing for his refusal to take the Oniwaban soldiers with him. The elite squad had been trained specifically for the Prince's defense; and he'd refused to take them on this trip for fear of their rather... uncommon... appearance frightening his young wife more than she needed to be seeing as she'd already be reeling from their first meeting. Figured that this would happen.

* * *

"How is Sanosuke your brother?" Misao piped up suddenly, breaking the silence they'd kept all morning. She was still tucked safely in Aoshi's coat, he'd shook his head when she'd tried to offer it back to him, and felt quite comfortable after having filled her belly with breakfast. Her comment on how wonderful it tasted had brought a flush to Kenshin's cheeks and he'd admitted to having prepared their meals himself to save the cook the trouble of making extra food.

"What do you mean?" Aoshi inquired, sounding surprised by her sudden inquiry.

"He said he's your brother by marriage?"

"My parents married later in life; Sanosuke was an infant when his father died of an illness, and his mother remarried my father a year later, and shortly after that I was born."

"So Sanosuke is your older brother?"

"Clearly."

"Oh." Misao fell silent again. Kenshin had assured them that Sanosuke had been set free on a lifeboat with a ransom letter, and had been relatively unharmed. That was somewhat comforting.

The door's opening interrupted their collective brooding, and Misao jerked to her feet when she saw the owner of the small feet pattering down the steps. "Tsubame!"

The girl's hair had been washed and brushed, she'd clearly had a bath, and she wore a proper dress. Her belly was slightly swollen, suggesting she'd just finished a large meal. She was clearly grinning, eyes shining. "Lady Misao!" She hurried to the cell and giggled, glancing over her shoulder and then lunging to hide behind a crate.

A moment later Kaoru came racing down the steps, staring around and planting her hands on her hips, "Golly, I wonder where Tsubame could be? I don't suppose she could be..." She lunged suddenly and scooped the girl up, whirling her in a circle.

Tsubame laughed madly, squirming around, "Mama, don't! Eee!"

"_Mama_?" Misao gasped, "Miss Kaoru is your mother, Tsubame?"

"Uh-huh." Tsubame responded softly.

"We've been searching for her. I'm sorry you were aboard the boat she was being held on; but we recognized the name of the ship as the one that had stolen her away and attacked, and didn't realize who you all were until we'd already struck. Then we simply saw an advantageous situation." Kaoru put Tsubame down, "Please don't hate us. Our people need the money, to survive."

Misao was silent for a moment, and then she smiled at Tsubame, "I'm glad you found your family, Tsubame."

Kaoru's eyes softened and she grinned as Tsubame ducked her head and bolted up the stairs, "Chase me mama!"

The young woman mimicked her daughter's bow, her pale eyes soft, and then she bolted up the stairs as well, "I'm coming!"

"That was noble of you." Aoshi muttered, "Absolving her like that."

"People have to do, what they have to do. They couldn't very well walk up to us and ask for a donation, you know." Misao smiled at him before returning to her favourite spot and closing her eyes as she leaned back. "We'll reach their island soon, won't we?"

"Yes."

They did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again; see, I'm sticking to my promises and actually updating, haha. As always reviews are terribly appreciated; a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I've tried to directly respond to all of my latest reviews, if I've missed any of yours you have my heartfelt apologies.**

**Respectfully,**

**DoN**

Little Promised Child

Chapter Six

"Now I'm going to open the door, and I must ask that you keep your hands where I can see them and don't attempt anything sneaky; that I must." Kenshin's voice was amiable, but his eyes were serious and focused on the face of the Prince.

"Aah." Aoshi bowed his head in agreement and stepped through the door as Kenshin opened it, crossing his arms and gazing pointedly at the other cell. A smile crossed the red-haired man's face, and he opened Misao's door as well, watching as she stepped through – false-started toward Aoshi – and then snorted and aimed herself clearly toward the door and crossed her arms in a strange mimickry of the man she was trying to ignore.

Kenshin looked between the two for a moment, saw Aoshi roll his eyes at the Princess, and then chuckled uncomfortably and indicated, "Go on ahead, you two. It would look rather silly if I let you both run off because I turned my back on you, right?"

"Right." Aoshi responded with what might have passed as a half-smile, stepping ahead and indicating that Misao was to go ahead of him. She looked even more uncomfortable than usual but did as he wanted, too out of her element to make a fuss about what Aoshi wanted.

_This figures. I live on an island for years, and I'm always fine and happy. Now that jerk comes to get me... and gets me kidnapped first thing!_

"I'm confused." Misao stated suddenly, pausing on the deck of the ship and turning, "Miss Kaoru said you guys recognized us. I can see you recognizing Aoshi and Sanosuke...but how did you recognize _me_? I've been gone for so long..."

Kenshin's brows rose, "You didn't know? A grand announcement went out to announce the return of the princess of the Makimachi family; there was an artist's rendering of you. The artist really captured you well, although he gave you a serene expression I haven't seen on your face once."

Aoshi made a funny choked sound that was aggravatingly similar to a laugh. Misao studiously avoided his face and instead focused on Kenshin, "Really? I didn't know that. Seems a little stupid to announce the return of royalty, since that would leave me open to assassination or...um...kidnapping."

"Mother was eagerly anticipating your arrival, and went a little overboard. There was a grand ball planned, as well." The prince offered helpfully.

Misao huffed and turned around again, walking off once more. Kenshin gave directions as they were needed, his voice remaining respectful and amiable at all times. He seemed more than happy to pretend they were just friends for a visit, not prisoners. Misao found that strangely endearing, which frustrated her to no end...how was she supposed to hate someone who refused to act like a normal kidnapper? Aoshi's serenity wasn't helping her temper, either. He seemed to think their kidnapping was some convenient _vacation_ or something.

A small part of her kept sulkily suggesting that he'd _planned_ this.

"Through here, please." Kenshin had taken the lead at the end of their journey, and unlocked a door, indicating that they were to enter. "We tried to make everything as comfortable as possible... I'm afraid there's only one bed."

Just like that they were alone, in the same room, staring at the queen-sized bed in one corner. Misao found herself feeling vaguely nauseas. _Share_ a bed with him? Her gaze flickered to a couch on the other side of the room. One of them was sleeping there.

Aoshi strode across the room and sat on the bed, sliding his boots off and his coat – which he had reclaimed from her before Kenshin's arrival – followed suit. Misao stood still for a moment, and then gave in and let her small slippers take their place next to his boots. Gazing at the stark difference, she was aware for the first time of just how much smaller she was than he. It was unnerving.

"How tall are you?" The princess inquired suddenly as she stood awkwardly next to the bed, watching Aoshi arrange a pillow.

"Roughly sixteen hands." The prince responded, glancing up after a moment, "You look pale. Take a seat." He looked away again.

Misao kept to her feet despite feeling vaguely unwell – it was hard to adjust between sea legs and land legs. So now she was ... well ... landsick which sucked just as badly as being seasick – simply because he'd told her to sit.

After a moment Aoshi looked up, seeming surprised that she hadn't sat. "Why are you still standing? I told you to sit down. Heed me before you _fall_ down."

Misao shook her head rapidly, "Nu-uh. I'm just—oh!"

Figures.

Shaking her head had thrown her off-balance, and she pitched to the side with a hiss. It was Aoshi's hand that caught her, fingers pressing her waist to adjust her fall toward the bed so what would have left a nasty bruise turned into a graceless collapse onto the mattress. "Why do you persist in being so defiant?"

"I don't _like you_." Misao explained without missing a beat.

"Why?"

_Why_? How do I hate thee, let me count the ways...

"Do you hate me because I am your husband? Because I came to collect you? Because quite honestly I wish you weren't my wife, you're a spoiled brat who's too concerned with whining about having to leave her perfect world on an island in the middle of nowhere to worry over the wellbeing of anyone but herself!"

His words stung. Misao refused to show him that, not wanting to give him the pleasure, and tilted her chin up furiously. "I hate you because you weren't there on that island with me! You weren't there when a messenger told me my parents had died. You never once wrote me a letter, or even visited. Maybe that's why I hate you. You abandoned me, forgot all about me, and then when it was _convenient_ for you, you appeared out of _nowhere_ without so much as a letter of warning, to inform me that I had to come with you back to a land I don't even remember! What about _that_ you big ice-cold ass?!"

Her chest was heaving. She was too hot. It was so uncomfortably warm in this damn room. Why did they have to put them together?! Misao wanted to hide in her own room, not having to worry about defending her distress. Or defending the fact that she knew entirely too many swear words... books were really a negative influence on an impressionable young princess.

Aoshi was staring at her.

Still.

Finally she grew uncomfortable enough that she turned her face away, wishing he would just take a hint and go sit somewhere else. Or take his hand off of her shoulder so she could go somewhere else.

"You're angry with me because I... wasn't there with you, because I didn't contact you?" He seemed surprised. "Not because I'm your husband?"

"I can't hate you for something you didn't have a hand in. But you are terrible at being a husband." Misao lashed out finally, wounding him back with her own words, watching the small flinch and seeing his eyes harden. She twisted away from him and stood, moving to sit unhappily on the couch, arms crossed tightly.

"Well." Aoshi muttered, "you aren't much better at being a wife."

"Good, divorce me and return my family's land." Misao shot back.

"I can't do that!" Aoshi responded, surprised.

"Which?"

"Either!" He frowned at her, "If I handed you back the Makimachi lands you'd destroy them and you know it. You're smart, for a girl, but you're still a woman and you'd never be able to keep peace there by yourself."

Misao's first inclination was to get angry. For once in her life she didn't obey it. "You're right."

His eyes widened as he considered her.

Once more they fell into silence. Misao vaguely considered that their silence might have been slightly more companionable than before. She didn't feel the urge to strangle him, which was a substantial leap. For a moment she actually let herself stop resenting him. What if they could make peace? If they even fell in love? He was _gorgeous_... he was close to her age, and both of those were rare for a princess in this era. Usually she'd have been paired to someone three times her age. She'd gotten lucky with Aoshi...right?

"Why don't we call a truce, princess?" Aoshi broke the silence.

Misao looked up, freezing for a moment.

"I don't want you to hate me. I don't want to hate you – why don't we make our peace and stop fighting one another? It's unfair of us to hate each other for preconceptions. If you like, we can start over, and perhaps actually give it a try this time." He hesitated, "I'll admit I didn't exactly put forth my best foot at our first meeting, either."

She hesitated for a long moment, considering it. Could she do it? Just let go of years worth of resentment, one anger after another that had piled up?

"No." Misao muttered, "I don't want a truce. I'm tired, leave me alone." With that she threw herself to lay on the couch, back to him, staring at the cushions and kicking herself over and over. Why had she done that? Why had she let her mouth start talking before her brain had caught up? She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, admitting to herself that her brain had been perfectly caught up – she was too petty to just let go of things that had been on her mind for so many years.

"Ah." Aoshi's muttered response came, his voice ice cold, and he didn't speak again.

When Misao woke up, he was gone, and his coat was laid over her to keep out the evening chill.


End file.
